


A Heroine's Armor

by Eissel



Series: Moms Made Fullmetal Week 2020 [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Evilious Chronicles AU, Family Feels, Gen, Inspired by Music, Inspired by Poetry, Knights - Freeform, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character Death, Moms Made Fullmetal 2020, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Offscreen character death, POV Minor Character, Post-Revolution, Post-War, Revolution, Swords & Sorcery, Time Skips, War, Y'all know who the rebels are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eissel/pseuds/Eissel
Summary: The wife of the Führer of Amestris, Verena Bradley, due to her career as a knight had long gone without giving the Führer an heir. Suddenly, the royal couple have a child, one which rumors say used to be the Crown Prince of Creta.But those are just rumors, right?
Relationships: King Bradley/Mrs. Bradley, Mrs. Bradley & Pride (Selim Bradley)
Series: Moms Made Fullmetal Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758514
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Moms Made Fullmetal Week 2020





	A Heroine's Armor

**Author's Note:**

> Because fuck subtly. 
> 
> Anyways, if you get the reference in the title: I'm sorry that I like to beat up on best dad (though in this case it would be best mom now wouldn't it), but it's worth it. :>
> 
> For everyone else? Buckle up and get ready, it's gonna be a wild ride.
> 
> Day 4: _**Victory**_ or _**Responsibility**_ or Homework
> 
> Poem: _Mother to Son (Langston Hughes)_ \+ See End Notes

Verena walked through the ruins of the once great town, only stopping to dismiss some of her soldiers. The town had long been plundered before Amestrian forces had even reached it, buildings stripped of all decorative pinnings and valuables. 

The townspeople were little better fare in terms of spoils of war, cowards the lot of them. A slight sneer marred her face. 

Putting up Amestrian colors certainly wasn’t a bad move to stop her men from killing the lot and moving on to the next objective, so she knew that  _ someone  _ in the town had the brains to think up such a move, but the thing that had put a sneer on her face was the couple positioned out back of the town’s main chapel. 

_ Dismounting from her horse, Verena frowned at the sight before her. A couple, young by the looks of it, were curled around each other, stripped bare for the elements to eat away at their skin. The wind that had been blowing shifted, and she hastily covered her nose and mouth. _

_ Dead, for more than a few days. Considering that none of her forces had even sniffed in this direction, let alone the rest of the Amestrian force, these two had either died of natural causes and been thrown out here in some makeshift “funeral”, or they’d been killed and left to rot. _

_ She suspected that it was the latter. In a town like this, those two must have spoken up about defection, and gotten killed for it. _

_ It put a bitter taste in her mouth. _

She was disgusted with the townspeople, for killing people who were only standing by their own principles, but then again, she couldn’t talk. She herself had executed many a man and woman for sticking to their principles and attempting to desert. 

The only difference between Verena and the townspeople was that she was the premier knight of Amestris, the Lady of the Dawn, with more military gains under her belt than anyone else, and the townspeople were simple peasants. 

_ “Please! Spare me, I have done nothing to you!” _

_ “No.” She had agreed, standing over the man in full armor, a boot on his arm applying pressure so that he couldn’t run. “But you are a Cretian soldier, and my orders are to kill you.” His sobs were piercing, but Verena was not swayed. _

_ She plunged her sword into his heart.  _

“Lady of the Dawn.” What a title. 

All it meant was that she had killed more than anyone else in this war, all it meant was that she was even further away from her husband (she sometimes laid awake at night, wondering how he was doing without her), all it meant was that in her wake, Amestris would grow, consuming the corpse of Creta. 

She walked into a ramshackle house, checking it for any supplies that someone might have forgotten to take. Spying a closed cabinet, she walked over to open it. Before she could, she stumbled upon a woman.

Dead by the looks of it, but not from malnutrition or dehydration, which meant that there were decent odds that the cabinet was still stocked. No, this woman had died from one of her men. Who it was, she didn’t know exactly, but if she found out, she’d throw him to the wolves herself. Time and time again she had impressed upon them that they were  _ not  _ to break and enter and kill the residents of surrendered towns. Amestris wasn’t looking to systematically kill all the people of Creta, they were looking to  _ annex  _ the land.

Acts like these only made the people more likely to rebel in the future.

Sighing, she went to turn the woman over, so she see if there were any identifying features she could subtly slip into her speech that night that would make the culprit reveal themselves, and paused. 

Underneath the body, shielded from the outside world, was a baby. Black hair, black eyes. 

Verena paused. 

She couldn’t leave the baby here, it would surely starve. And she couldn’t bring the baby with her, there was no one available to take care of it. And Cretian culture was never exactly the picture of  _ charitable.  _ The child would probably be left to fend for their own once he turned 10. 

The only merciful way out was to kill it. The idea of it felt awful, but it really was the only way. Verena closed her eyes. All this time spent justifying her actions to herself, claiming that this was all for “justice”, that this was all for her home and country… 

All undone by a baby.

She raised her sword tentatively. 

“... I’m sorry.” She whispered, and brought it down. 

* * *

_ 2 years later. _

Verena arrived back home in full ceremonial armor, the streets bursting with life to welcome their Heroine. Her only companion was the knave she had brought alongside her, One Lord Hakuro. He carried a bundle close to her chest, and he kept her head ducked down. 

“Lady Bra-”

“Not yet Lord Hakuro. When we reach the castle.”

“You’ve come back safely.” He greeted as they rode up to the castle. She removed her helmet and quickly dismounted, capturing him in a tight hug. 

“I’ve missed you.” She whispered. “I’ve missed you so.” Pulling away, she traced his face with her gloved hands, drinking in all the changes time had made to his face. “... I also have something important to tell you.”

“Well, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my Lady of the Dawn.” Bradley smiled. 

“Good.” She gestured for Lord Hakuro to dismount. “I think I have solved our problem.” 

King Bradley had been heirless for a long time, no part in doubt due to his wife’s absence so that she could lead the troops. But a not insignificant part of that was also an injury he had suffered many years prior in the fight for the throne, where his lower body had been injured, rendering him lame for a better part of 10 years before the Court Magicians could help restore some of his bodily functions. While his injury had been concealed from the public, his wife’s absence could not be kept secret, and whispers had run rampant, rumors that the Lady of Amestris was cheating on her husband had only died down when tales of her brutal acts had hit the papers back home.

As the young man dismounted, he revealed the bundle he carried: A small, approximately two-year-old boy, a shock of black hair framing his thin face. 

“A child?” 

“Yes, I found him on my campaign. I asked Lord Hakuro to take care of him for me, since I couldn’t do so myself.”

“So that is why-”

“Yes my Führer, that is why I came back from my expedition early.” Hakuro intervened. “He is growing well, but the dire situation near my family’s lands has meant that he has not received all of the care he needs.”

“Th-That is okay.” Bradley reoriented himself. “That is completely fine. You did the best you could Lord Hakuro, I will see you rewarded for it.” The brunet nodded, and remounted his horse. 

“My best wishes my Führer.” Lord Hakuro said, then departed. 

“A son.” Bradley whispered. “My dear-” Verena cut him off with a kiss to the cheek. 

“ _ Our  _ son. His name is Selim.” Bradley nodded dumbly. 

“Selim. Selim Bradley. A fine name.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

* * *

_ 3 years later . _

Life had been sweet for those last 3 years. But now, only failure was in her path. Her husband lay dead at the hands of the enemy, and she herself was on the run. 

“Where’s papa?” She put Selim’s cloak over his head and shushed him. 

“We’re leaving papa behind.” She said firmly. “It isn’t safe here anymore.” She pushed her horse into a gallop, trying to leave the castle behind as quickly as she could. Biting back curses, she kept a tight grip on the reigns. 

Rebels. Not even Cretian ones,  _ Amestrian  _ ones. Rebels who had stormed the castle one day, let in by her husband’s elite guard, having been bribed by the rebellious Court Magicians. She remembered one of those guards in particular, a blonde woman who had rushed into the arms of one of the Magicians, who had led the way into the Royal Couple’s rooms. 

But thoughts of revenge wouldn’t do her or Selim any good now. Verena kept riding, she would ride all through the night if she had to. 

Her destination was a small plot of land, just at the Western border. An old vacation house, one she and her husband no longer frequented after Augero declared war. But it would do them good now. 

As she reached the Western region, the change only noticeable by the new foliage and abundance of deer, she reached for her trusted sword. 

_ The battered thing was an old friend to her. Bloodstained or clean, nearly broken or brand new, Slashing or stable, it was her companion.  _

She reached up to her long flowing hair, and chopped it off with one single strike. That done, she threw the sword off into the woods. She didn’t care where it landed, just that it was off her person. Clutching Selim closer to her, she kept riding. 

* * *

_ The sword hit the wood next to the baby’s head. She simply couldn’t do it. _

_ She wasn’t strong enough. _

_ “Lady Bradley?” Glancing at the doorway, she saw the familiar visage of Lord Hakuro. “Are you alright, did one of the locals try to ambu-” _

_ “No. No I’m fine.” AN idea came to mind. “Lord Hakuro, your family’s land… It’s near the Cretian border, correct?” _

_ “Yes, it is Lady Bradley, may I inquire why you ask?” She picked up the strangely silent baby.  _

_ “This is why.” The man’s eyes had widened.  _

_ “My Lady, you do not mean that you want to raise that ba-” _

_ “Yes, I do. My husband and I will not bear children. We are simply too old for that now. This is our only chance for Amestris to not devolve into civil war once he dies.” The man shut up at her rebuttal, and nodded his head. _

_ “Yes, I obey my Lady.” She started to hand the baby over, when the plates of her armor snagged on some of the cloth. “Ah, let me help remove that.” He came closer, and untangled the cloth, then he drew a sharp gasp. “My Lady.” He started. “Creta, Creta’s royal family can never know about this.” _

_ “About adopting? Yes, of course, they would claim that the babe would be a bastard, illegitimate for inheriting the throne.” _

_ “That is not what I meant my Lady.” He faced the cloth to her. “This is the Imperial Crest of Creta. The boy is a Cretian Prince.” _

_ Oh. So that was why. _

* * *

_ 6 months later.  _

On the battlefield, many choices and considerations have to be made.

_ What can help me lead my men to victory? _

_ Why was I defeated? _

Many thoughts run rampant through the heads of the people fighting.

_ I hate them for what they are doing to my family. _

_ I will die for my country. _

_ It was lucky I survived that. _

_ How dare they betray us! _

For Verena Bradley, who had spent almost 6 years fleeing, never taking responsibility for her actions on those blood soaked fields, one thought reigned supreme:

_ I am doing this for justice. I do this for the people I love. _

6 months to the day that Central had fallen to the hands of rebels, Verena had a chance at one final victory, one to trump even her extensive campaign in Creta.

She had the chance, to take her country back from the hands of the rebels, and install herself back in the seat of “Lady of Amestris.”

All she had to do, was give up the boy known as Selim Bradley.

* * *

When she stepped out of the house, Selim immediately crashed into her, and hid behind her legs. His practice sword was thrown onto the ground, the steel sparkling in the noon sun.

“There are people chasing me mother!” He cried. Shushing the boy, Verena faced the cloaked group walking up the hill. Glancing around, she realized that they were surrounded. As the group that was coming up the hill approached, a man broke off from them, and sped up.

“You may call me Father.” The person said, stopping in front of Verena, extending a hand. She didn’t take it. “I have come for him.” He pointed a finger at Selim, who cowered behind her. “Won’t you accept my offer Lady Bradley?” Verena stiffened. No one had called her that in a very long time.

“No.” She said firmly.  The man frowned, and the mercenaries that he was clearly the leader of tensed up. Verena’s hand inched towards her sword.

“Give us the boy.” The old man said, a wry smile on his face. “He isn’t even your child, you hold no blood relation to him. What use is a brat on your meager finances Lady- ah, I mean  _ Mrs.  _ Bradley?”

He was right. She didn’t really have an attachment to the child, not like a real mother would. But if she gave Selim over to them, they’d probably murder him, or worse, use him in some magic experiment. 

She knew the old man’s type, she even spied a few magical runes at the hem of his cloak. Selim would be taken an experimented on for the curiosity of the disgraced Court Magician. 

But even so… One way or another, this would take care of her problem. Ever since Amestris had fallen to rebel hands, the war with Areguro had ceased, and some of the old Cretian lands had been emancipated.

The Cretian people were demanding that Amestris find their lost prince, claiming that his body was never found. Verena’s eyes traveled to Selim’s trembling frame. 

The lost Cretian Prince was in her care. If she was discovered, she could be executed. If she gave him up to the man calling himself Father, surely she could avoid that fate. Surely she could be set free from all of the responsibility that came with his presence.

“If you need more convincing good Madame, I will make you a promise. If you help us,” he gestured to Selim, “We will help you in return. Those rebels who now infest Central? They will easily fall before our might, as long as you give us the boy.” 

_ I don’t have any doubt. The clear  _ **_obvious_ ** _ choice would be to give him up, there’s no benefit for me if I keep him…  _

Verena didn’t move a muscle. The old man frowned. As he raised his hand to order his men to do something, a small pressure forced her back, and Verena couldn’t help but stare.

In front of her, was little Selim, holding the training sword he had been practicing with this morning. 

He was…  _ protecting  _ her. 

Her, the woman who had tried to dodge all responsibility for him, the woman who denied that there was a relationship between them despite all the time they had spent together.

The woman who had denied her  _ family _ , the ones closest to her, just for a chance at revenge… 

“Pitiful boy.” The man mocked. “Don’t you know, the one you love as a mother and protect with that weapon was just about to sell you off.” 

“I don’t care!” Selim shouted, his stance wavering. “She… She’s my beloved mother, who protected me, and cared for me! I love her! Even though I’m a burden, even though I’m not her real son, she still loved me! She still gave me a home, she and father loved me as much as they were able!” 

Verena came to her senses. Stifling a chuckle, she patted Selim on the head, and stood in front of him.

“Selim, go back inside. I'm sorry for acting so silly before. You shouldn’t have had to witness your mother being so irresponsible.” 

She drew her sword, and clashed with the first mercenary the old man sent after the running Selim.

* * *

_ 10 years later. _

Selim opened the letter his mother had left for him:

_ Dear Selim, _

_ I know I couldn’t really be considered a good mother. I really was not suited for it. After all, my life had been spent training and on the battlefield.  _

_ I killed more people than you would ever know of, so much so that my armor and sword had been stained crimson by those people. I really didn’t lead a life to be proud of. My husband, your adoptive father however… That was a man you could be proud of.  _

_ (At least, that is what I believe, others may tell you otherwise. It is not my place to tell you how to feel about him) _

_ Even so, even though as you grew older you learned all these things about me… You still said that it was alright for me to act as your mother, as the armor that would protect you. _

_ When you open this letter, I will be long dead. Your inheritance is in the shed. _

_ Love, _

_ Your Mother, Verena Bradley, former Lady of Amestris. _

Setting the paper down, Selim went to the back shed for what his mother had left for him. As he stepped outside, he made a note to hurry up with his business, as twilight had already descended. Opening the shed, he peeked in to see if it was right at the front. 

Well, clearly it wasn’t. Walking into the shed, he went deeper into the shed, and he stared at what he found there.

A set of armor, clear fitted for a female, and a sword with a red handle and sheath. Smiling, he took the sword for his own, and, using his magic, carved a piece of the armor off. As he walked outside, the sunlight glinted off the tinted iron, which prompted Selim to store it in his pocket. The Magically enhanced iron would serve him well in creating his own armor.

_ That day, 10 years ago. I never told you how scared I was. I never told you how my faith wavered when that man spoke.  _

_ I simply took your hand in mine, and I let you carry me all through that bloodstained era. On the battlefield, there was neither justice nor evil, but despite that, you always seemed sure that your day of atonement would soon come. _

_ You called every deed you were praised for a crime. All except one. You said that all your other victories weren't. Not when compared to you final victory: Finding and raising me. You said that sparing me was the best decision you had ever made.  _

_ The next best, you said, was settling down, and calling yourself a mother. _

Selim mounted his horse, and rode off, a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> The other inspiration for this was A Hero's Armor is Always Crimson. Not my favorite EC song (that goes to Drug of Gold) but one very close to my heart. Leonhart best dad, and Germaine best daughter. (Also, I know a song isn’t a poem, but eh, didn’t feel like making a new category for something I’m only doing like, once.)


End file.
